Reason
by alette
Summary: Five years after school ended things are different. Harry is working as an Auror with Draco alongside him. But, that does not mean things can't get complicated too. Slash.


Reason

Disclaimer: I do not own this Harry Potter or anything affiliated with it. I am not attempting to profit off of this.

Criticism is welcome as are all comments.

* * *

"He hates me, you know," said a voice a little too close to Harry's ear for comfort.

Harry's back was turned from the speaker, but he did not need to look to see who it was. The same voice with the same inflections that had plagued him for years at school was now attempting to have a conversation with him. Five years ago the idea may have been laughable. Now it was just exhausting.

"Yes, Draco, I know. But if you ever want to get out of here, we better finish the reports on the Osmond case. Ginny is waiting, you see…" he stated apologetically, by way of explanation.

"Of course she is," said Draco sarcastically. Harry did not have to see his face to envision the mocking expression. It really was late and he had had enough of it from Draco today. First the business with the robes, then his refusal to eat with the Mr. Osmond's wife because she was too 'common.'

"Quit it, come on. Just finish it up so we can close down. I'm tired." He sighed, readjusting his position in the chair. The Ministry could really afford to invest in more comfortable chairs.

"Well, I'm not. I could not be bothered if we had to stay here all night." A scraping sound was heard and Harry realized that Draco had sat down in the seat next to him. Sometimes it was better to just do what he wanted. It got things over sooner, stopped reminding him…

Harry set the quill down on the wooden desk, shaking out the remaining ink back into the inkwell. He turned to face Draco. "Yes?" he asked.

Malfoy grumbled. "Yes what?"

"Just tell me and get it over with. That is what." Harry sat back in his chair, pushing his hair back with his hand.

"Never mind. You don't want to hear anyways. You just want to leave."

"Well…" said Harry, trailing off. There was little use denying it.

"Knew it," said Draco vindictively. Silence elapsed and Harry, sighing, returned back to his report – blotting out a few words with his wand.

"He told me that it was my fault, that Voldemort lost, that Bellatrix was dead. He told me that if I hadn't let you take the wand…" Draco stopped. Perhaps he wasn't ready to talk about it again. They had already had this conversation a million times before. Tonight could not be any different.

"It wasn't," said Harry, setting down his quill again. "And even if it was, aren't you glad Voldemort fell? Isn't that what the goal was – not to be a Death Eater? Or do you want me to call in The Dark Wizardry Detection Squad?"

Draco sighed, mouth set in a morbid sort of grin. "Yea, you're right…"

"I'm right, am I? Most shocking."

"Quit it Potter," said Draco jokingly. "I just didn't want him to hate me for it. I mean, it's not like I like him, but he's changed. I think Azkaban scared him, knocked some sense into him."

"Sure," said Harry, remembering the night's he had spent with Draco's father. "Changed."

"Well, maybe not," Draco conceded, but he's still my father. "And he hates me. They all do."

Harry furrowed his brow – he had never heard this before. "Who?"

"The Slytherins, the Gryffindors. Everyone. All of them. The first hate me for betraying them, the second for being who I am…was."

"I don't hate you," said Harry immediately, rashly.

"Sure, Potter," said Draco dismissively.

"No, I really don't," said Harry and surprisingly found it to be one of the truest things he had ever said.

"You don't?" asked Draco, looking hopeful. On impulse Harry leaned forward on his very uncomfortable chair, and kissed his archrival, Draco Malfoy. Draco leaned in too, kissing back, kissing hard, ready to…Quickly, Harry pulled away.

"It is rather late…Ginny…" he stopped, looked down at his feet, gathered up his papers.

"Right," said Draco, wiping his mouth, getting up too. He was no longer smiling. He had no reason to.


End file.
